Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die
I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you
Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry
I'm setting off, but not without my muse
Remus was sitting in the room, alone. His notebook opened in front of him, but he wasn't writing. Well, he tried to, but after about 30 minutes of trying and failing to focus, he instead opted to stare over at the accompanying bed across from him, thoughts filled with fantasies Remus would never say aloud.
He was worried when his parents enrolled him. Remus was a shy and timid person by nature, and leaving the comfort of home to instead study with hundreds of other human beings in almost near proximity scared the absolute shit out of him. Remus cried privately when he realized he would never have a free moment to himself after this again, for months.
Yea, he was a bit dramatic when the news hit him. It wasn’t as bad as his anxiety riddled brain made it out to be, as he was sitting alone at that moment, and had been alone almost all afternoon and near evenming. What Sirius was up to right now to have him be gone so long, Remus almost didn’t want to know.
And yet, the thought of Sirius was too distracting, he was surprised at the fact that he could not focus on his very important schoolwork.
What was he doing at this time anyways? Remus asked himself. Sirius was an enigma ever since Remus set his eyes on the boy. His long dark hair, barely contained, appeared to have been tousled by a few sets of hands. Sirius’ face did not live up to his ‘name,’ as the first time Remus saw him, and nearly every time since, Sirius either wore a grin or a smirk. The boy made an obvious effort to look as playful and devious as he could, only opting to look serious when ordered to by his superiors.
He had a sharp jawline, paired with dark eyes and a perfect smile, the type of smile that made Remus see stars every time he saw it. (Which was a lot: whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, Remus hadn’t quite figured that out yet.)
Overall, Remus knew he was going to have an ‘interesting’ school year the moment he saw Sirius, especially so after seeing him to be his new roommate.
It wasn't hard to come up with a mental list of things the boy could be out doing. Sirius was a troublemaker, and although he did everything as his father told him, he was not afraid to open his mouth and share his real thoughts of his father as soon as the man left. Sirius was always looking for ways to “Go out there and live my life Moony, I would hate to let all of THIS,” He gestured to himself. “Go to waste on the simple-minded ways of the everyday men of the world.” Sirius once explained to Remus one night, after inviting him to go out and share a few drinks. (James had gotten his hands on a bottle of alcohol, some type Remus cares not to remember.) Sirius was always looking for a way to “Go live his life,” as he so ‘elegantly’ put it.
Remus, however, was the opposite. Ever since the day he entered his dorm room, he promised himself to try and do his very best here in school to follow the rules, and make his parents proud by getting excellent grades.
Sirius made that hard sometimes. (Most times.)
In fact, this was one of those times. Remus should be studying, but instead here he was spending a scary amount of time thinking about a boy who he spends most of his days with, thinking about how little he knows about him, and how much he wishes to know more.
It was slightly scary, to know that you wanted something so badly. Remus wasn’t so thick in the skull to not understand the root of his want. It scared him, really, the whole reason behind it all. This world would never understand it. (Remus didn’t either.) The root being his undeniable attraction to Sirius Black.
He was a gorgeous boy, effortlessly so. His personality only complimented his appearance, and it made Remus lust for a friendship so deeply, he barely could contain it himself. It was hard, knowing that his feelings about the boy would forever be thoughts. Remus could never tell Sirius about his true feelings, as he would never understand. The world would never understand.
And so, everytime Sirius would beg and beg Remus to join him in whatever activity he was doing with James that night, Remus would always say no. Not because he wanted to say no, but because he had to.
If he developed a friendship, Remus knew he would not be able to contain his true feelings. It was hard enough already.
Except, he did develop a friendship.
It was dangerous. Sirius invited him to join the “Dead Poets Society,” the group he started up again after hearing Mr. Keating talk about it.
Remus refused at first, but eventually caved, after Sirius assured him he wouldn't have to ‘participate’ as the original rules stated. So he joined Sirius in sneaking out to a cold cave every week, and tried not to think about the times their hands would cling together as they traversed the woods, Sirius catching him as he would nearly trip, nerves always at an all time high those nights.
But tonight was not a Dead Poets meeting. No, that's tomorrow night.
So where was Sirius?
Remus was so caught up in his daydreaming, he did not hear the approaching footsteps, and was startled when the door flew open dramatically, Sirius’ laughter suddenly filling the room.
He waltzed himself over to Remus’ bed, plopping himself down, a piece of paper nearly thrown down on Remus’ empty notebook.
“I found it.” Sirius states excitedly.
“You found what?” Remus asks, opting to look down at the piece of paper not so nicely put in front of him.
“What I really want to do right now.” Sirius smiled, “What’s really, really inside me.” Sirius answered sort of cryptically.
Remus looked down and read, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” Remus wondered what a Shakespeare play could have made Sirius this happy.
“This is it.” Sirius said dreamily.
“What is this?” Remus questioned.
“It's a play, dummy.” Sirius quipped.
Remus sighed, “I know that. I-- Wh-Wh-What does it have to do with you?” He stuttered out.
Sirius smiled. “Right, they’re putting it on in Henley Hall. Open tryouts, open tryouts!” He ended excitedly.
“Yea, so?” Remus retorted.
Sirius makes a fist and pounds the bed frame once. He stands and grabs his blanket, wearing it like a coat.
“So, I'm gonna act. Yes, yes! I'm gonna be an actor! Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to try this. I even tried to go to summer stock auditions last year, but, of course, my father wouldn't let me. For the first time in my whole life I know what I wanna do.”
Sirius grabs a stack of papers on the edge of Remus’ bed and flings them in the air dramatically.
“And for the first time I'm gonna do it whether my father wants me to or not! Carpe diem!” Sirius exclaims.
“Sirius, Sirius. Hold on a minute, How are you gonna be in a play if your father won't let you?” Remus inquired, not liking the way he thought about the whole situation.
Sirius, on the other hand, did not look stressed. “First I got to get the part, then I can worry about that later.“
Remus, not letting up, “Yeah, but won't he kill you if he finds out you went to an audition and didn't even tell him?”
Sirius, not missing a beat responds. “No, no, no, no. As far as I'm concerned, he won't have to know about any of this.”
“Well that's impossible.”
“ Bullshit! Nothing’s impossible!”
“Well, why don't you just call him and ask him? Maybe he'll say yes?”
Sirius laughs, holding no humor. His happiness suddenly drained. He tosses his “cape” back onto his bed.
“If I don't ask him, at least I won’t be disobeying him.” Sirius responds.
“Yea, but what if he said-” Remus is interrupted,
“Jesus Remus! Whose side are you on!” Sirius yells, turning to face him.
Sirius grabs the paper from Remus, and walks back to the window, looking out. All his previous excitement, what was left of it, gone.
“I mean, I haven't even gotten the part yet. Can’t I enjoy the idea for a little bit?”
Sirius sits on the clunky heater placed right in front of the window, using it as a direct front seat to the window.
After a beat of silence, Sirius asks. “You're coming to the meeting tomorrow night, right?”
Remus sighs, “I don't know, maybe.”
“Nothing Mr. Keating says means shit to you, does it, Remus?” Sirius quips, slight venom in his tone.
“W-what,” Remus stutters, “What's that supposed to mean?”
“You’re in the club! Being in the club means being stirred up by things. You look about as stirred up as a cesspool.”
Sirius gets up off the heater and makes his way to stand over Remus, still sitting on his bed. There's papers strewn everywhere.
“So, you want me out?” Remus asks, trying to hide his fear.
“No, I want you in, but being in means you gotta do something. Not just saying you’re in.” Sirius explains.
“Well, listen, Siriusl. I-I appreciate this concern, but I-I'm not like you. All right? You, you, you say things and people listen. I'm, I'm not like that.”
“Don't you think you could be?”
“No! I--I, I don't know, but that's not the point. The, the, the point is that there's nothing you can do about it, so you can just butt out. I can take care of myself just fine. All right?” Remus exclaims nervously. His stutter getting worse the more anxious he is.
“No.”
Remus is confused.
“What do you mean, "No,” ?"
A smile breaks out on Sirius’ face.
“No.” He states again. Sirius grabs Remus’ notebook and runs across the room with it.
Remus hops up after him. “Give me, Sirius, Sirius! Give me that back!”
They start running around in circles, Remus running around trying to get ahold of his notebook as Sirius dodges all his attempts.
"We are dreaming of a--" Poetry! I'm being chased by Walt Whitman! Okay, okay!”
Sirius drops the notebook as Peter walks in, holding his own Chemistry book.
“What are you guys doing? I'm sure-- You see this chemistry-” Peter is cut off by Sirius grabbing the book out of his hands, and darting across the room, again.
Suddenly all three of them are now running around the room.
“Hey, give me-- Sirius, give me-- Don't be immature. Come on. I need my-” Peter is cut off by yet ANOTHER person entering the room. This time it's James. He starts waving his arms around,
“Hey, Sirius! Give it to me! Give it to me!”
Sirius hurls the book across the room at James, who catches it clumsily.
Peter is still yelling at the two of them. “Hey! Give me my book! I need my-”
The four of them are just running around the small space, trying to get the textbook. Sirius picks up a recorder from somewhere and starts playing random notes as Peter looks distraught over his textbook, still being thrown around. James starts thumping a set of bongo drums, a group of boys crowding outside to watch.